


No One Else on Earth

by montecarlogirl87



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlogirl87/pseuds/montecarlogirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU -- Jensen's an outcast...and potentially dangerous. Jared's just a normal kid at high school. Damn assigned seats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Else on Earth

**Author's Note:**

> This was the last fic I wrote that I was actually able to complete. That was back in 2010. That makes me sad. :(
> 
> That being said, it's also one of my favorites out of everything I've ever written. I managed to write it in about 6hrs, it came so easily, and I wuv it. :)

Jared likes school. He does well. He’s got a buttload of friends. He gets along with just about everyone else. Even that creepy kid that everybody knows is one day gonna snap and kill everyone smiles awkwardly at him in the hallway.   
  
Jared figures he’s safe if that kid ever hits his breaking point.  
  
And now, he’s an upperclassman. He’s got a free period three days a week. His classes are awesome -- half of them electives -- since he got all his mandatory crap out of the way the first couple years and in summer school -- hey, it sucks, but only three weeks equals a full semester credit. 

And being a junior means all kinds of privileges -- sure, not as many as the seniors -- but at least he can finally drive to school now. And thanks to living pretty close he gets one of the best spots, right up front, under the tree, every morning.  
  
The first week back is awesome. Catching up with his buddies, sports sign ups. He’s been on the bowling team since he came to Lyman. He’s on Varsity Lacrosse too. He tried out for wrestling freshman year but he was just too gangly for it to work. He figures he could do it now that he’s bulked up more, but doesn’t really feel the drive. Maybe it’s senioritis just kicking in really early.  
  
But on Friday everything goes sideways. He’s got AP Bio for last period on Gold days -- his school’s got block scheduling -- and while everyone else in the county thinks they’re crazy, Jared actually kinda loves it. Monday and Tuesday they ran all classes -- it really solidified Jared’s stance on the whole block thing -- so Wednesday had been the first real normal class period. Outlines were handed out, books assigned, but being a short day nothing much had happened. Friday however...Friday they got assigned seats. Which happen to also mean assigned partners. For the  _year._  
  
His partner and desk mate? None other than senior Jensen Ross Ackles.  
  
Lyman High School’s token bad boy. Nobody really knows his story, the guy rides a Harley to school, wears leather, ripped jeans and boots. There’s rumors he sells drugs and runs a mini-mob. No one’s ever seen his parents. There’s rumors he’s killed them.   
  
Course there’s also the rumors that they’re some part of mafia themselves and living somewhere else, sending blood money to their kid to live in his own criminal brand of witness protection. Jared kinda thinks it’s all bullshit but that doesn’t change the fact that Jensen’s still pretty creepy.  
  
It’s not like Jared can’t handle his own. Even at sixteen he towers over pretty much all of his teachers, but this guy rides a motorcycle, has nonexistent parents and just appeared in town last year.   
  
Jensen’s got no friends. No group he sits with at lunch. He’s got free periods in the morning, so no one really knows when he arrives, he just appears somewhere around break time, goes to his classes. He drinks a Dr. Pepper and eats a package of mini powdered donuts everyday for lunch. Nobody even approaches that vending machine until he’s gotten his snack and left. And then he tears out of the parking lot after the bell rings with the roar of his bike’s motor and a small cloud of dust.  
  
Jared’s kinda not looking forward to trying to talk to this dude. But he’s got his sight set on college and he needs this AP credit and like hell he’s gonna let some James Dean wanna-be drag him down just because he’s an antisocial prick.

* * *

 

They’re not scheduled to start on any projects or labs until almost halfway through the year. Jared’s pretty cool with that. Jensen seems to take his notes, keeps his head down, interaction with him is pretty unnecessary. Still, Jared makes sure to say hey to him everyday when he takes his seat. Figures it can’t hurt, might make actual conversation down the road a little more manageable.  
  
A month into school and everything’s back to the way it was last year. The new-year shine has worn off, the teachers have picked out their pets, the token annoyance in each class have made their presences known, everybody knows their schedule well enough to make it though the halls and to class even half asleep.  
  
Jensen still hasn’t talked to him.  
  
Jared still says hi.  
  
When October rolls around Jared blows a whole week’s allowance on Halloween candy. He’s a total sugar junkie and teachers pretty much give up that month trying to keep it out of kids’ hands and just go with it.  
  
He’s got a king size bag of peanut M&Ms in his hoodie pocket and is popping them in his mouth from the moment he steps out of his car in the parking lot that morning.  
  
Jensen comes into the room, his boot clunking down on the tile inside the door right as the bell goes off.  
  
Jared doesn’t say hello that day, instead he drags the bright yellow bag of candy out of his pocket and smacks it down on the black tabletop between them.  
  
Jensen stares at the bag, hand holding his Bio book halfway between his backpack and the desk, highlighter in his other hand.   
  
Finally he looks up at Jared, the first real eye contact they’ve made since…well, ever. And  _holy crap_  his eyes are green. Jared blinks, caught suddenly off guard, it’s not like he was really expecting a reaction.   
  
He kind of chokes on a peanut.  
  
“Help yourself man,” he finally croaks, blinks against the stare Jensen’s pinning him with. It’s getting kinda creepy.  
  
Jensen finally puts his book down on the table. Gives Jared a once over, like he’s never seen him, before turning back to his book, starts twirling his highlighter through his fingers. Jared thinks he does it strictly because it makes the other kids whisper about knife skills.  
  
“I’m allergic to nuts,” he says quietly. Seconds before the teacher claps his hands and tells them what page to turn to.  
  
The next day when Jensen sits down Jared smacks down a king size bag of plain M&Ms.  
  
Jensen blinks at it before looking up at Jared. Jared just grins pulling out his own bag of peanut ones and plops it down next to the other one.  
  
He doesn’t say anything when Jensen starts eating his ten minutes later.

* * *

 

Jared gets sick just in time for school to start back up after Christmas break -- stupid, snotty cousins at the family get together.  
  
He tries to go back to school, he really does, but after he spends lunch the second day on his knees in the bathroom puking up the greasy disgusting pizza from the cafeteria he figures he’ll just stick it out at home until the worst blows over.  
  
He’s on his couch drinking out of the orange juice jug on Friday afternoon watching reruns of Animaniacs when there’s a knock on his door. He’s home alone since his parents are at work, so he drags his snotty, disgusting self off the couch, makes sure his sweat pants aren’t halfway down his ass and opens the door.  
  
He’s not expecting Jensen to be standing there.  
  
He’s wearing his black leather jacket, sunglasses pushed up into his hair and Jared kind of freezes when he meets his eyes. They’re  _really_  green. Like, seriously,  _Jesus._  
  
It kind of takes him an embarrassingly long time to say anything. But he’s gay okay, been out of the closet since middle school, and Jensen is actually kind of, sort of, a little bit, ridiculously attractive, even if he is sort of mysterious -- and yeah, okay, that doesn’t help  _at all_. And he’s standing on Jared’s doorstep. Which on one hand, kind of creepy, cause Jared’s never told him where he lives, but also,  _he’s on his doorstep_  and Jared’s been feeling kinda crappy and he’s vulnerable right now, okay? So give him a break.  
  
“Hey, I just uh...I brought you your Bio work...I...I tried to get the rest...but your uh, your friends wouldn’t talk to me, so I couldn’t ask about your other classes,” Jensen says, stumbling over the words and looking around Jared’s yard while he holds out his hand with a small backpack, not his own, which Jared assumes holds said schoolwork.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
Jensen finally looks back at him.  
  
“You look like shit dude.”  
  
Jared nods.  
  
Jensen clears his throat, wiggling the bag in his hand and Jared jerks, reaches out to take it from him.  
  
“Thanks...I mean...yeah, thanks.”  
  
Jensen just nods again. “Harsh has a lab scheduled for next week...if you feel up to coming in then...I could use the partner,” he says, sort of rushed and quiet before pulling his sunglasses down and he’s off Jared’s porch and halfway to his bike before Jared even really processes it.  
  
It’s not until after dinner that night when Jared opens the bag that he realizes Jensen took notes for him too. They’re written neat and orderly in a way that Jared knows took him hours to do, because he’s seen Jensen’s handwriting when he’s just jotting shit down for himself and it’s not legible like,  _at all._  
  
He makes a mental note to tell his friends to fuck off when it comes to giving Jensen a hard time. After all, it’s not like any of them came to check on him or make sure he wasn’t getting behind in his classes.

* * *

 

The lacrosse team makes it to conference finals that season. There are giant LAX signs all over campus and people are howling in the halls. Jared doesn’t really think greyhounds are the type of dogs to howl, but whatever, probably just comes with the territory of going to a high school whose mascot is canine.  
  
The big game is that night, against their long time rival school and all the players are wearing their blue and gold -- which is really just yellow -- jerseys to class. Jared’s kinda hopped up on sugar -- which okay, that is kinda normal -- but he’s been announcing his arrival to class with howls all day.  
  
Bio is no different.  
  
Jared brings his head back down and grins, dimples digging into his cheeks at the annoyed-but-failing-to-hide-his-amusement-glare that Harsh is sending him. He kind freezes when he turns to go to his seat though because Jensen is staring at him. Jared has really got to get over this thing he has with his eyes.  
  
His smile dims for a split second, heart trip-hammering in his chest for no good reason and Jensen rolls his eyes and opens his book.   
  
But that’s definitely the corner of a smirk Jared sees and all of a sudden his grin is back, full wattage, baby. He sits down next to Jensen and nudges his shoulder.  
  
Jensen glances over at him, much like the teacher, trying to glare and failing because Jared is just that awesome.  
  
“You totally love me, don’t even lie.”  
  
It’s out of his mouth before he can think better of it and he freezes when Jensen’s eyes widen, just barely, just enough to notice before he clears his throat and turns back to his book.  
  
“Whatever you’ve gotta tell yourself, dog boy.”  
  
“Hey, I’ve got no problem with doggie style.”  
  
And  _wow_ , he really needs to find the switch to his brain-mouth filter because that totally wasn’t supposed to come out the way it did.  
  
Jensen’s eyebrow is arched high over those ridiculously long lashes -- and seriously what the fuck is  _wrong_  with him that he notices this shit -- when he turns to look at him.  
  
He’s kinda gaping like a fish, trying to retract that statement while at the same time not saying something about how ridiculously pretty Jensen is when he notices the little crinkles around those green eyes.  
  
Jensen’s grinning, like full out, snorting-trying-not-to-laugh, grinning. And it’s gorgeous, _Jesus Christ._  
  
That brain-mouth filter switch he was looking for?  _Totally_  didn’t find it, because the next thing out of his mouth is, “You should really smile more, man,” but he says it all low and soft and way more intimate than it needs to be said.  
  
Jensen’s smile immediately shuts down, face turning an interesting shade of pink -- and there are those wide eyes again -- and he turns back to his book,  _again_ , and doesn’t say anything to Jared the rest of the day.  
  
All Jared can think about is how freckles should really not be so hot under the heat of a blush.

* * *

 

They win. Barely. Double overtime. Those tricky sons-of-bitches. But they totally win. And there’s totally confetti everywhere, and music blaring in the parking lot and girls on guys shoulders and basically just high schoolers running amok all over campus after hours.  
  
His parents left after congratulating him, knowing he was probably going to hang out with the team and generally just be an overly hyper idiot for the next few hours.  
  
He’s standing on the bumper of his teammate’s pickup screaming his lungs out when he sees it.  
  
The black and silver lump towards the back of the parking lot.  
  
His buddy’s revving up the truck and Jared jumps down, slapping the side and flicking the bird when he gets yelled at for it, but waves them off when they ask if he wants a ride. He waits until the taillights fade towards the exit before walking over towards the Harley. Body thrumming with a weird sort of static that has nothing to do with post-game adrenaline.  
  
“Hey man,” he says when he gets close enough to see Jensen, sitting here, in the back of the parking lot, fiddling with his gloves in his hands.  
  
Jensen inhales sharp and deep before mumbling out hey back.  
  
“Didn’t know you were gonna come,” Jared says, wishing his gym pants had pockets just to have something to do with his damn hands.  
  
“Yeah, I uh, I normally don’t. I just...you know...you were talking about it non-stop, so...”  
  
Jensen doesn’t finish, just shrugs, looks back down at his gloves.  
  
“Well...thanks,” Jared says quietly.  
  
Jensen smirks, just barely and looks a Jared from under his lashes, and there is no way in hell Jared’s reading this wrong.  
  
“You wanna, uh...you wanna go for a ride?” Jensen finally mumbles, clearing his throat as soon as the words are out of his mouth.  
  
“Yeah...sure,” Jared answers, voice trembling. He’s not sure when whatever this thing is between them flipped a 180 but it has and he’s kind of terrified and ridiculously excited at the same time.   
  
At least until he swings his leg over the back of the bike and realizes that, oh yeah, he’s gonna have to like, hold on,  _to Jensen_...at that point he’s mostly just terrified.  
  
The excitement comes back when he hesitantly curls his fingers into the worn leather of Jensen’s jacket and feels him inhale shakily under his palms, obviously as freaked the fuck out as Jared is.  
  
After that the only thing he feels is the rumble of the bike and the ache in his cheeks from the grin he’s trying to hold back.

* * *

 

Jensen hits the highway out of town, opens up the bike underneath him -- and fuck whatever Jared’s freaking out about -- he tightens his arms around Jensen’s stomach because falling off at this speed would mean a closed casket funeral.  
  
He can feel Jensen laughing and he lets go with one hand just long enough to flick him off before grabbing hold again.  
  
Jensen purposely swerves from lane to lane -- pissing off every car around them in the process -- but he’s laughing. And Jared can feel it. And it’s kind of  _awesome_. Jared kind of can’t help but chuckle behind him, ducking his head into the collar of Jensen’s jacket.  
  
He stops laughing when he feels Jensen’s fingers thread between his where they’re sitting on his stomach and steers the Harley straight and true and smooth down the highway.  
  
He has no idea where they’re headed, and no idea when they’re gonna get back, and he really can’t make himself care.

* * *

 

Jensen pulls off the highway just at the county line, heads down some little maintenance road that cuts off the side right before the bridge over the river.  
  
He eases the bike up to where the pavement dies against the water. Turns off the headlight and snaps the kickstand down, letting the bike list over to the side to rest on it.  
  
He doesn’t say anything, just gets off and walks toward the edge of the pavement, staring out over the murky water.  
  
Jared stays on the bike, not really sure what to do, what the point of coming out here was. He glances down and notices the date pinstriped over the gas tank of the bike.  
  
Today’s date. Four years ago.  
  
His brow furrows and he looks back up at Jensen.  
  
He gets off the bike, taking a minute to get his legs back -- muscles protesting the stress from the game and subsequent time spent vibrating from the bike’s motor -- before he walks over to Jensen, stands next to him in silence.  
  
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Jensen whispers, voice getting lost in the annoying ass buzz of Texas bugs.  
  
“What?” Jared asks softly.  
  
Jensen chuckles, short and cynical.  
  
“You.”  
  
Jared has a split second to think that maybe Jensen  _is_  some teenage delinquent like everyone thinks. That he brought him out here to kill him and dispose of his body via the gators in the river. But it just doesn’t mesh with the guy he’s been sitting next to for the last nine months. The guy that eats whatever candy Jared brings him -- always without nuts. And takes the time to re-copy all his own notes to make sure Jared doesn’t fall behind. The guy that despite being the biggest outcast in the history of Lyman came to tonight’s game specifically to support Jared from what he can tell.  
  
Jensen threads his hands up into his hair -- blown out and fuzzy from the ride -- and takes a step forward, boot squelching into the mud at the very edge of the water.  
  
“This have to do with the date?” Jared asks quietly.  
  
Jensen turns back towards him, brow drawn down in confusion.  
  
“On the bike,” Jared clarifies.  
  
Jensen’s face immediately shuts down and he shoves his hands into his pockets, drops his head to stare at where the mud is smeared across the toe of his boot.  
  
The bugs fall silent a minute later, Jared finds it kind of ominous.   
  
“My parents were killed by a drunk driver,” Jensen whispers into the silence. “I was thirteen.”  
  
Jared inhales, sharp and hard, has absolutely no idea how he’s supposed to respond to that.  
  
“Bounced around in foster care until I turned sixteen and got access to my trust fund. Got emancipated.”  
  
Jensen’s just rolling on, voice low and monotone, like he’s forcing himself to get it out. To lay it out in front of Jared. It sounds rehearsed, like this isn’t the first time he’s had to tell this story. Clinical, like he’s cut it down to save time and energy.  
  
“I just...I just wanted to finish school. There wasn’t supposed to be someone that I...”  
  
That’s when it changes, when his voice cracks, emotion betraying him. Turns his face away from Jared.  
  
Jared’s pretty sure he gets it, chest gone tight with nerves, steps shakily over towards Jensen.  
  
Jensen doesn’t move, lets Jared get right up into his space.  
  
“Tell me I’m reading this wrong,” Jared whispers.  
  
Jensen shakes his head, sardonic smile on his face before finally turning back to look at Jared.  
  
Jared’s the one to move -- surprises himself actually -- reaches up and wraps his hands around the base of Jensen’s skull, pulls him into a kiss, scratching his fingernails through Jensen’s hair when he feels Jensen’s hands dig into his hips.  
  
Jensen drops his head after a minute, Jared can feel his breath, hot and shaky gust over his lips as Jensen breathes. He doesn’t know where to go from here, doesn’t know what happens next.  
  
Jensen rolls his forehead against his, digs his fingers deeper into Jared’s hips.  
  
“You have to go home tonight?” he says quietly, glancing to the side when something sloshes the surface of the water.  
  
Jared swallows hard. “No...” he says slowly, can hear his own voice shake.  
  
Jensen’s eyes whip back to him, like he just realized how that sounded.  
  
“Not...not for...I just...” he sighs, releases the death grip he’s had on Jared’s hips. “I just don’t really wanna be alone tonight,” he whispers.  
  
Jared nods, runs the short hair at the base of Jensen’s skull through his fingers and loops his arms around his neck.  
  
“Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Jensen’s got a little place just outside of town. Which would explain why no one at school knows where he lives. It’s just a little two bedroom. But considering he lives alone and off of a part-time paycheck and however big his trust fund is, it’s a pretty nice place for a high schooler.  
  
Jared’s kind of freaking out now that they’re here. He knows Jensen’s not expecting anything, could practically feel him vibrating separately from the bike the whole ride home. Not that Jared would object to the idea, he just really doesn’t wanna push whatever this fragile thing is that’s stretched between them.  
  
“I’ll uh...I’ll get you some clothes,” Jensen says, breaking the silence. “You can take a shower.”  
  
Jared nods -- he does feel pretty disgusting -- now that he’s stopped moving. The bike ride managed to dry the game-time sweat but he can still feel its sticky pull on his skin.  
  
Jensen hands him a pile of what looks like boxers and a worn out t-shirt and waves a hand towards what Jared is assuming is the bathroom before he slips into the kitchen without a word.  
  
By the time Jared gets out, the kitchen light is off, and there’s a faint glow coming from the bedroom at the end of the hall. He hangs his towel back on the rod, leaving it to dry out before he heads to Jensen’s bedroom, lump firmly lodged in his throat.  
  
Jensen’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, leaned back against his pillows and holding a picture frame in his hands.  
  
Jared eases over, doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to be doing and sits down on the other side of the bed, copies Jensen’s pose.  
  
Jensen holds out the frame for him to take. Jared instantly knows who it is. He can see the resemblance. Jensen’s got his dad’s grin, his mother’s eyes, figures the little kid they’re holding still for the photo is a sun-bleached blonde Jensen around age five.  
  
“I was trying to not...” Jensen sighs. “There wasn’t supposed to be anyone that cared...but you had to be stubborn.”  
  
Jared tears his eyes away from the washed out photograph and looks up at Jensen. He’s turned slightly, leaning forward and staring at where Jared’s fingers are wrapped around the wood of the frame.  
  
“I’m not gonna apologize for that,” he says quietly. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna apologize for that. He doesn’t really know when the school outcast that sat next to him and he played nice with out of necessity became this guy that he cares so much for, but now that it’s smacked him in the face he is not letting go.  
  
Jensen smirks, rubs his hands against his thighs, takes the picture from Jared and puts it back on the little end table behind him.  
  
He seems so small and vulnerable at the moment. Stripped of his sunglasses and biker leathers. Stripped of this bad boy cover he wears at school. Jared kind of wants to punch every single person that’s ever said one bullshit thing about him. In the face.  
  
Jared takes the opportunity to slip his feet under the navy blue comforter. Jensen looks at him for a second, then clicks off the light and slides down under the covers himself.  
  
Jared’s still kind of freaking out, but he knows Jensen’s worse. Has spent years putting up these walls that for some unknown reason he’s letting Jared just jump right over.  
  
He rolls over onto his side and drapes his arm over Jensen’s waist, pretends it isn’t the huge ass deal that it really is and slots himself into Jensen’s personal space.  
  
He can feel Jensen shiver under his hand, tilts his head back when Jensen buries his face against his collarbone and breathes.  
  
“I’m not gonna pretend I know, or understand,” Jared says carefully. “But I wanna be here...for you...if you’ll let me.”  
  
Jensen doesn’t respond, honestly Jared didn’t really expect him to, but his hand curls tighter in the shirt Jared’s wearing and he tangles their legs together and Jared just smiles and lets himself relax, listening to Jensen breathe until they both fall asleep.

* * *

 

There’s a lawnmower outside that is operating entirely too early on a Saturday morning as far as Jared’s concerned.  
  
He grumbles and buries his face deeper into the crook of Jensen’s neck.  
  
“Yeah, sorry, my neighbors are kind of assholes,” he mumbles, voice gritty with sleep.  
  
Jared smiles against his skin and pulls back enough to look at him.  
  
Jensen’s hair is stuck up in a million different ways -- although he’s sure his isn’t much better -- and his eyes are puffy with sleep. He’s looking pretty embarrassed or nervous at the moment though, maybe both.  
  
Jared grins, leans forward enough to kiss him softly, sighs when Jensen’s hand comes up to cup his jaw.  
  
“So,” he says after they part. Jensen’s dropped his gaze, staring hard at where he’s slipped his fingers between Jared’s. “What now?”  
  
“I make mean pancakes,” Jensen grins.  
  
Jared laughs, can’t help himself and kisses Jensen again, drops onto his back and pulls until Jensen’s leaning over him.  
  
“No one else on earth,” Jensen whispers, and Jared cocks his head.  
  
“The plan was to finish school, get on my bike and just ride until I didn’t want to anymore,” he elaborates quietly.  
  
“What’s the plan now?”  
  
Jensen shrugs, he’s playing with the hem of his own shirt that Jared’s wearing.  
  
“I dunno, been thinking about going to TCC,” he says quietly looking back up to meet Jared’s eyes.  
  
“That’s a good plan,” he whispers, knows what’s Jensen’s asking.  
  
“Is it?”  
  
Jared nods.  
  
“Good,” Jensen laughs, soft and so obviously nervous, “’Cause I kinda like waking up with you,” he says, low and quiet.  
  
Jared grins, can feel the dimples digging into his cheeks. “Me too,” he whispers, pulling Jensen down into another kiss. “But I might need to try these pancakes before I commit,” he says against Jensen’s lips, winks when Jensen smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling.

* * *

 

*****epilogue-ish*****

  
It’s kind of hilarious after that.  
  
Well...it’s pretty fucking awesome. But as far as his school life goes, it’s pretty fucking hilarious.  
  
Jensen graduates that May, starts at TCC only three months later. And for Jared’s entire senior year he’s that guy that has that creepy, potentially dangerous college boyfriend that rides a Harley.  
  
It makes him laugh. A lot.  
  
At his own graduation he’s smiling and taking pictures with the family, his annoying blue gown swirling around him. He hasn’t seen Jensen, but that’s okay, because he knows he’s here somewhere.  
  
He hears the Harley before he sees it, Jensen pulls it right up onto the sidewalk outside of the arena.  
  
Jared can hear the whispers of the other graduates around him and laughs out loud. The mysterious boyfriend has returned. He hands his mom his cap, she’s grinning and shaking her head. He just kisses her cheek and hikes up his gown around his knees and straddles the back of Jensen’s bike.  
  
Jensen hands him a pair of sunglasses and leaves a black trail of rubber across the walkway just before the security from the event can make it over to tell him he’s not allowed to even drive there.  
  
It’s not until hours later, sated and sleepy in bed that Jensen hands him the little box.  
  
Jared has a moment of freaking out, holding the little black velvet thing in his hand with what he’s sure is a stupid expression on his face before Jensen pinches his nipple.  
  
“Just open it idiot.”  
  
It’s not a ring, it’s a key, which looks suspiciously like the one on Jensen’s key ring.  
  
“Figured, you know, now that you’re going to college, you might wanna move out from under the parentals.”  
  
“Yeah?” Jared asks, rolling over, off of Jensen’s chest and onto his elbows.  
  
He shrugs, clearly nervous now that Jared’s staring at him. “If you want,” he mumbles.  
  
“I do want,” Jared whispers, “I want a lot,” he smiles, leans forward and kisses Jensen, the cold metal of the key pressing into the skin of his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> and here's Jensen's bike...a 1987 Harley Dyna FXR...because I'm OCD like that
> 
> [](http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b22/montecarlogurl87/FicBanners/?action=view&current=1054208720Stroker20a.jpg) [](http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b22/montecarlogurl87/FicBanners/?action=view&current=1987Harley-DavidsonDynaFXRSTROKER.jpg) [](http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b22/montecarlogurl87/FicBanners/?action=view&current=1054208720Stroker20b.jpg) [](http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b22/montecarlogurl87/FicBanners/?action=view&current=1054208720Stroker20d.jpg)


End file.
